Breaking the Triangle
by Savage Midnight
Summary: Summer was tired of being second best. Slash implied.


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Title: Breaking the Triangle  
**Author: **Savage Midnight  
**Email: **savage_midnight@hotmail.com  
**Rating: **PG  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'em. They belong to that Josh dude.  
**Summary: **Summer was tired of being second best.  
**Authors Notes: **I don't know why my O.C. fics are always this short. Huh. Probably because I'm still in that experimental stage when it comes to this fandom. Anyway, my first time writing implied slash. Yay for me! I can't write smut, so this is probably the slashiest fic you'll ever get out of me. Sorry, guys.

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It lasted thirteen months before Summer grew tired of sharing. She broke the triangle three weeks before Graduation, because Summer was tired of being Seth-Ryan-and-Summer. She'd lost herself in there somewhere and now she wanted her life back. She wanted to stop loving two people who loved each other more than they loved her. Because that was the real problem; the problem that had been bugging her for months.

It was great, at first. It was every girl's fantasy to have two guys lusting after you and after each other, with you always permanently sandwiched between them, or next to them, or beneath them, or--

That wasn't really the issue, though. That had never been the issue. Until lately. Because Summer felt pushed out, and for months now she'd watched their cosy little threesome slowly become a twosome. Their triangle had become a harrowing complication and like Seth had once said, one of the more painful shapes. Except that thirteen months ago, they'd all agreed that that would never be the case for them. They loved each other differently, sure, but fiercely nonetheless, and nothing would ever change that or break it or take it away.

Summer loved Seth with an almost childlike naivety. It was honest and pure and simple. It was giggly and girlish and adolescent in nature, but it was a constant flame on a slow burn, always there, going steady. It was fuelled by a mutual adoration, an open respect for each other, and a sweet, innocent obsession that neither had a problem with.

Summer loved Ryan with a brutal passion. It was hot and spontaneous and sometimes painful. It was unrestrained and fiery and temperamental in nature, a flame that flared and died on cycle. It was fuelled by bouts of anger and irritation, but constantly relit by a quiet respect for each other, and a fierce loyalty that neither had a problem with.

Seth loved Ryan with a mixture of both. It was honest and pure and passionate. It was new and comfortable and forbidden in nature, a flame that never flickered. It was fuelled by the comforts and affection of friendship, the endearing desperation of two people who had never truly belonged, and an unwavering dedication that neither had a problem with. Even Summer.

Ryan loved Seth in much the same way. It was honest and fierce and constant. It was dark and desperate and foreign in nature, a flame that burnt hotter and hotter. It was fuelled by the security of friendship, the bitter need to belong somewhere, somehow, and a strange mixture of loyalty, faith and quiet obsession that neither had a problem with. Even Summer.

What Summer had a problem with was the fact that, even though she had no idea of the way Ryan and Seth loved her, she knew they didn't love her enough. They loved each other more and maybe Summer had known that from the beginning, but it was now that she was finally realising what she hadn't back then.

It had never been a threesome. It had never been a triangle. It had been Ryan-Seth-and-Summer. Ryan-and-Seth, plus Summer.

And she couldn't live like that anymore. She couldn't. Because Summer knew she deserved better, she deserved more. She was tired of being second best and for once she wanted to come first. That had never been the case with her dad and her mom and her stepmom. Marissa was no different. Summer had come second to Luke, and then Ryan, and then Oliver, and then her problems had taken precedence over Summer's like always, and Summer had just accepted it. It was the way it was. And then there was Seth and for once she was number one, and then there was Ryan and he made her number one in his own way. They both did. She felt important for once, vital. She felt like, if she were ever to step back and out of their triangle, it would fall apart without her.

Except lately she'd realised that it wouldn't, and when she'd stepped back and out, it hadn't. It was already changing anyway, shifting, and Summer's departure had only helped it along, until the sides had simply collapsed and settled into a simple, straight line. From Ryan to Seth. From Seth to Ryan. Ryan-and-Seth. Ryan-and-Seth, minus Summer.

God, it made so much sense.

That night she dreamt about Seth's sweet kisses and Ryan's bruising ones. She dreamt about warm bodies curved along her back and front, limbs entangled with her own, strong hands buried in her hair and gentle arms wrapped around her waist. And she burnt with a fierce passion and cried sweet and bitter tears. She trembled with memories of innocence and naivety and mystery, of painful affection and misguided anger. She relived it all in the darkness of her room, and then, when morning rose up, clear and bright and simple, she let them go. Memories of touch and sight and smell. All of them.

She let them go, until all that was left was Summer. And with nothing left but herself, she moved towards her full-length mirror, and with her shoulders set, and her eyes clear and bright and certain, she declared:

"I'm Summer Roberts and I'm number one."


End file.
